


This Night Walk the Dead

by romanticizingchemicals



Series: Frerard One-Shots • romanticizingchemicals [9]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Best Friends, Cute, First Meeting, Halloween, Kids, M/M, Social Anxiety, Young, different first meeting, frank iero - Freeform, gerard way - Freeform, meeting as kids, six years old, yay these tags suck idek, young meeting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-21 23:38:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6062425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticizingchemicals/pseuds/romanticizingchemicals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>•super fluffy, in all honesty. I wanted to do some Halloween and little baby Gee and Frankie, so yeah•</p><p>Title Inspiration: Cemetery Drive, by My Chemical Romance (Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Too dark. Too many people. Too many smells. Too many voices.

 

Halloween.

 

"I have more candy than you!" a younger boy cries out to another, and I quickly scoot away from the sudden outburst of noise. Too loud. "No, you don't! See, you forgot to count this lollipop!" comes the reply, high-pitched and angry. My heart beats quickly in my small chest, and I wipe my free and sweaty hand on my green hoodie. Too hot. Too cold.

 

Halloween.

 

The streets are full of small children, even a few teenagers and older kids amongst us, but it doesn't matter how old or young they are. They're still people, and I'm still afraid of them. It's not the silly costumes or the funny noises they make, like "Roar!" or "Boo!". No, it's just the fact that they're people, and I just happen to be terrified of people and engaging in conversation with them. 

 

"Gee, sweetie, why don't you try that house? It looks nice," my mother coaxes me, and I look up at her, my eyes wide and fearful. I glance up the driveway of the house she's speaking of and immediately decide to avoid it, as there are at least ten kids in line. "No, no, not that one," I plead as she grabs my hand and drags me to the door of the house, behind the line of waiting children. "Oh, Gerard, you're fine. There are only a few kids, and they all look nice. See, this one looks very nice!" she exclaims, tapping a boy a little shorter than me on the back. 

 

The boy turns around slowly, his face concealed by a comical zombie mask. On his body is a green hoodie identical to my own, and there's an awkward exchange of glances as we look each other over. The boy pulls back the hood to reveal a mess of black hair and also removes the mask. I notice that he's actually very cute, but I stop myself before I can get too attached. He's a person. He's scary. "Hello, lovely," Mother cooes at the boy, and he smiles a small smile, "What's your name?" 

 

He ruffles his hair and stands up on his tippy-toes, bouncing up and down as he cries out proudly, "Frank! Frank Anthony Iero!" I immediately recognize the name, and recall this boy being in my kindergarten class. Yes, Frank. He's as quiet as myself, though he gets a bit loud while playing with himself. "And how old are you, Frank?" my mother continues, and I pull her sleeve, my heart racing. I can't do this. I can't talk. I can't be in situations like this.

 

She ignores me and waits for Frank to answer, who's frantically counting his fingers over and over again. "Uh, six! I turned six today!" he yells over the noise, holding up seven fingers. Mother chuckles and pushes me forward slightly, to which I redden and bite my lip nervously. "So is Gerard! He turned six earlier this year," she prompts, and I sigh sadly.

 

"Oh, I know you!" Frank says gleefully, and I fake a smile. "Yeah," I reply quietly, and he looks in my bucket of candy. And by bucket of candy, I mean that there are three suckers and a gumball. "You barely have any candy," Frank says, his voice full of concern, "Here, have some of mine!" With that, he dunks his hand into his own candy basket and pulls out a handful, one dropping to the concrete as he transfers them to my bag. I smile widely at this, suddenly really liking Frank.

 

He's very nice.

 

He drops another piece in for good luck and smiles, leaning back on his heels. "Why... Why did you do that?" I ask as quietly as I can so that he can still hear me above the buzz of Halloween, and he shrugs carelessly. "Because you're cute and you didn't have any!" he replies, and we both giggle. My mother is obviously delighted with my conversation, and she stands up. "Where's your mother, Frank?" she asks, and Frank stops smiling. 

 

Instead, he concentrates on his shoes, which are black and untied. "She's at home. She doesn't live that far, though," he responds emotionlessly, gritting his teeth. I frown and set down my candy bag, bending down in front of Frank. "Do you want me to tie your shoes?" I ask, and he nods. "I don't know how," he admits, so I show him.

 

Actually, I don't know how to tie shoes, either. I just pretend like I do, so that I can make him feel better. "And then this goes through this hole and–oops!" I cry as the laces come undone, and we erupt into giggles. Mommy continues to look at Frank sadly, but I'm very pleased with my newfound friend. If he is a friend.

 

"So, your name is Gerard. I'm Frank. That means that we should be friends!" Frank says as it's finally out turn to receive our candy, and a towering figure stands in the doorway of the home. "Trick or treat?" they ask, and Frank and I chime, "Treat!"

 

After we receive a ton of candy from this kind person, my mom asks Frank if he wants to keep trick-or-treating with us, and he screams, "Yes! Gee and I are best friends, so we have to!" Best friends? Yes, best friends. 

 

So we go around the neighborhood, calling out our chant of "Trick or Treat!" and getting handfuls of candy poured into our buckets, simply because we're the "cutest little things" people have ever seen.

 

We're practically unstoppable.

 

"Gerard! You have something on your face," Frank alerts me as I munch on a chocolate bar, and I get really nervous. How embarrassing that he can see how messy I am, even in the dark. "Oh, no! Where? Where?" I cry frantically, and Frank licks his finger and wipes at my lip, just like Mom does whenever I get messy.

 

I giggle and take the candy bar away from my mouth, actually enjoying Frank wiping the stuff off of my face. "Did you get it?" I ask through giggles, and Frank nods, licking his sucker, which smells like strawberries. I love strawberries.

 

Frank notices me staring, and offers his sucker to me. "Want some?" he asks, to which I reply by taking the candy and shoving it in my mouth, and though it's sticky and has somewhat lost its flavor, it's still tasty. If Mommy sees this, she doesn't care, because she just continues to hold my hand like grown ups do. "Okay, boys," she says after a few more moments of me and Frank exchanging candy and babbling nonsense about comics and video games, "We're about to cross the street, so Frank, grab someone's hand." 

 

I'm not too used to having both of my hands held at once, so as Frank slips his somewhat sticky, dirty hand into mine, the feeling is foreign. I slip my handy bag to the crook of my arm so that I can hold both my mom's hand and Frank's, but holding Frank's hand is different. He's someone else than Mom, and he's a boy. Some people, Mom has told me, think that boys that like boys are gross. 

 

I refuse to admit this to her, but I think that I might like boys.

 

Besides, girls have cooties. But Mommy says that even if I did like boys that she'd always love me, but I can't believe her. The last time I told a boy that he was cute and that I liked him a lot, he ran away and told on me, which is why I stopped talking to people. After that, I got bullied a lot, and this all happened at daycare. Dad never was around, though I'm not even sure what he actually does, and Mommy has to work a lot. So she drops me off at daycare, which is where I first saw Frankie.

 

Frankie. Frank. I like both of those names for him.

 

He never played with other kids, but instead played with action figures and sometimes Barbie dolls, and I would just sit and color with crayons. And whenever we had a group coloring time, he would color on himself with markers, saying that the pictures were tattoos when asked by the supervisors, and he was immediately sent to timeout for making the comparisons. "Your mother wouldn't want you talking like that, and you're too young for this!" they would scold, and it would always attract a lot of attention. 

 

"Gerard," my mother's voice comes from far away, and I snap out of my thoughts. Flinching, I look up at her, and she smiles irritably. "I was just asking you if you wanted to help me walk Frankie here home," she says, and I nod. "So early?" I whine, and she lets go of my hand to cross her arms. We had made our way safely across the street, and we're now in front of a small house not too different from our own. 

 

Frank is still holding my hand, even though we're not in the street anymore. I look at our hands and look back up at him, and he smiles cheerfully. "Why are you still holding my hand?" I ask, a little nervous. Maybe he thinks that I'm scared or something. 

 

"Because I like holding your hand," he replies, swinging our arms, "It's nice!" I smile and we swing our arms around in circles, but Mommy stops the chaos and points to the house. "So this one is your house?" she asks Frank, who nods. "Yep!" he cries, and he drags me up the driveway and to the porch. 

 

Mom follows us quickly, and we finally meet the light overhead. "Are you a scarecrow?" Frank asks, examining my face. I nod and unzip my hoodie, showing him torn and faded overalls and my face paint. "I am! Do you like it?" I ask for his approval, to which he nods. He's still holding my hand.

 

We giggle again and shove each other around as Mom knocks on the door a few times, and I sing, "Frankie! Frankie! He's my new best friend! Frankie! Frankie! He's my new–"

 

I'm cut off suddenly by the door being unlocked, and Frank flinches, so I hug him reassuringly. This form of contact and affection is different and newer to me, even though I do it to my mom all the time, but again, this is different. The door opens slowly, and a woman peaks her head out, catching sight of Frankie and gasping. "Frankie!" she cries, throwing open the door and reaching out for him, but instinctively, I pull him closer until I'm hugging him again. "No!" I yell, suddenly very confident and protective, "Don't hurt him!"

 

Mom and the lady work to separate us, me screaming and kicking my legs as the lady picks up Frank and squeezes him, and he yells, "Mom! You're crushing me!" My heart leaps to my chest and I kick out, writhing in my mother's grasp. She's crushing Frank!

 

"Frank! It's okay, I'll save you!" I call, trying to push my mom away. But she's too strong, and she smiles apologetically at the other woman. "I'm so sorry," she says softly, still grasping me roughly, "He wigs out in social situations. I think he may have social anxiety, and I have a therapist scheduled to check him out and talk to him next week." The lady nods understandingly and kisses Frank on the cheek, and he wipes it off. "Frank Anthony Iero!" she scolds, setting Frank down. He crosses his arms and sticks out his tongue. 

 

"I told you to wait for me! And you ran out there alone? At night? Do you know how many people could've hurt you?" Frank's mom cries, falling to her knees to become level with the very short Frank. "I was fine! I'm a big boy, and Gerard was with me!" he yells back angrily, looking up at me and tugging my leg.

 

Mom sets me down and I run towards Frankie, and we meet in an embrace. Both of the moms squeal and exchange light conversation. "I'm Linda, and you've met little Frankie," Frank's mother says, messing with Frank's hair. My mom giggles and shakes the woman's hand, introducing me and herself. "I believe that the two boys go to school together? They hit it off real well! Maybe they could hang out some time and we could get together," my mom says, and I bounce from foot-to-foot.

 

Frank does the same, calling out, "Oh, can we Mommy? Can we?" His mom says, "Of course! We just need to talk a little more and then we can all be friends." I'm surprised at how easily she can talk and then just be friends with someone, and even though I wish that I could be like that, even Mommy has told me that I won't really be able to do that. It's just the way I am.

 

"Well, it was lovely meeting you, Donna and little Gerard," Frank's mother says, scooping up Frank, "We'll see you at school. Thank you so much for taking care of him. I was calling all over, and I was just about to call the police. Thank you, just thank you!" There's some more talking between the adults, so Frank and I begin to talk again.

 

"Moms are very weird," Frank comments, and I nod and smile. 

 

"Yeah. Are we friends now?"

 

"Yes. Best friends. We'll play together all the time and make each other feel better and sleep together and eat together and kiss each others' boo-boo's when we get them."

 

"Really?"

 

"Really."

 

I smile and reach out for Frank as his mother brings him back into the house, and he waves wildly as he disappears behind the door. "Bye, Gerard! Best friends forever!" he calls loudly, and I giggle.

 

"Bye, Frankie!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm adding a second chapter to this one because my good friend geeisajacketslut suggested it, and the idea was super cute, so I'm gonna do it!
> 
> xoromanticizingchemicals

"Frank, Frank, _Frank_ ," I whine, slipping my arms around Frank's neck. He refuses to acknowledge my presence, which is really bothering me, so I decide to bug him instead. It is his birthday, after all, and I can't just let him sit here and play video games all day. He doesn't object to my hug, but continues to press buttons on the controller as he tackles another level of whatever video game that he's playing.

 

In all honesty, I like video games, but I'm not really into them. I just find that I have better things to do than to stare at a screen and play with a little remote in my hands all day. For example, I could read or draw or eat. Those are better than video games. "Frank Iero, King of Halloween, get your ass up!" I cry, finally just tackling him to the ground so that he screeches and drops the controller. 

 

The video game makes a few weird noises, and the "wah, wah, wah, _wah_ " sound of failure plays. I chuckle as Frank shoves me off of him and looks back up at the screen, a look of utter disbelief entertaining his cute little face. "Gerard, you fuck! I was almost done with that level!" he yells, turning back to me.

 

I feel no regret as he pushes me against the bed frame and lets go, grumpily crossing his arms before turning off the television and unplugging the gaming system. "I hope you're happy," Frank spits, sitting against the base of his bed beside me. I smirk and nod, crawling over to sit on his lap and basically straddle him. Not in a sexual way or anything, just in a cute, loving kind of way.

 

"I _am_ happy," I reply, cupping his face in my hands, "Because it's your birthday and I wanted to celebrate it like a normal couple would." Frank rolls his eyes, and I lean in to kiss him.

 

The taste of his lips against mine will never get old. The fleeting feeling of the loss of self control in my stomach that I get every time I lay my eyes on Frank will never diminish. We've been dating for at least six years now, both of us now eighteen. We met when we were six, on this exact day about twelve years ago, and I just can't believe how long we've known each other.

 

We started dating when we were twelve, finally accepting the fact that the love we had for each other was no longer just a friendly admiration. And ever since, we've been through thick and thin, and we've always been there for each other. 

 

"Yeah, well, _video games_ are a completely normal way of celebrating birthdays," he retorts irritably, pulling away from the kiss. I scoff and poke his eyes with my fingers, giggling and throwing myself off of him as he screams in agony and lashes out. We play a small game of tag, and I eventually lose when I trip over a stack of sheet music. 

 

Frank straightens me up and shoves me against the wall, pinning my with his arms on either side of my head. "See, we could just stay like this the whole night, and my birthday would still be wonderful," he whispers with a grin, kissing me again. I smile against the kiss and bring my hands around Frank's neck, running my fingers through his messy, uneven hair. It's not long, but it's not short, either. In fact, he's been thinking about growing it out just to shave one side and dye it red.

 

And I'm all for that.

 

He pushes me away and sits on his bed, legs crossed and eyes watching me. I regain my balance and run a hand through my hair to straighten it. "So I was thinking," I say, recalling my birthday plans for Frank, "And I think that we should either stay here or go trick-or-treating like we did when we were young. Your choice."

 

Frank's eyes widen and return to normal size, his eyebrows rising slightly. "Tough choice," he says mockingly, stroking a non-existent beard thoughtfully, "I mean, you know how much you just adore being around other people, in the dark, especially. Hmm. I wonder which one!" I roll my eyes and sit down across from him, taking his hands into mine and running my fingers along his. 

 

"It doesn't matter what I want," I mutter, kissing the back of his hand, "It's what you want. It's your birthday." Frank scoffs and sits back, replying, "Of course I'd rather stay here. It's my house, and you're here, and I want you to be happy." I grin and sigh a sigh of relief, because it's true; I hate being in social situations, especially those I encounter on Halloween. 

 

I lace my fingers with Frank's, so that we're holding hands. "Great," I say cheerily, kissing his forehead, "Because I have a surprise." He gives me a quizzical look as I slide off of the bed, padding to my bag and pulling out a small book. 

 

The photo album.

 

I've been planning this birthday for two years, as I knew that it would be a special one. You don't turn eighteen every day. Besides, Frank has been waiting for this one forever, and I wanted to make it special. Those thoughts in mind, I had stumbled across an old Polaroid that my mother had taken when Frank and I had first become friends, on that fateful night of my sixth Halloween.

 

Then it had occurred to me that I should put together a photo album, so I had gone around the house to collect pictures from the years that Frank and I had been friends, taking more and more pictures over the next two years. After gathering over two hundred pictures, I had gone to the craft store and worked on the scrap book for weeks leading up to today, bent over my desk constantly. 

 

"Oh my God," Frank whispers as I hand him the somewhat heavy book, tears rimming his eyes. He takes the book with shaky hands, and I grab the fluffy blue throw blanket that he keeps at the end of his bed and throw it over him. "We'll be here for a while, so I'm gonna go get some food," I say quietly, leaning over the vacant spot beside him to kiss his head. 

 

I walk out of the room through the house that I've known for such a long time. I'm here so often, in fact, that I'm even in a few of the family pictures. There are as many pictures of me as there are of Frank, and this is basically my second family. The same is to be said about my house, because Frank is not only a frequent conversational topic, but his face is also plastered to the walls in many different pictures. 

 

Grabbing a bag of Skittles and picking out all of the orange and red ones, I dump the red and orange candies into a bowl. I then grab some of the lactose-free, coconut milk ice cream that Frank eats, since he can't drink milk. After picking up a large bag of Ruffles and grabbing all of the other snacks, I nod and hobble back to Frank's room, only to find him sobbing over the first page of the book.

 

"Cry baby," I tease, but he ignores me. He's too emotional to even register my jeers. "Oh my gosh, Gee," he sobs, pointing at the first picture. It just so happens to be a picture of Frank and I holding hands on his sixth birthday, walking through the dark streets of Halloween. 

 

I smile and slip under the blanket beside him, placing an arm around his shoulders and bringing him to my chest. "Shall we narrate these pictures?" I ask softly, and he nods, covering his mouth. I follow his gaze to the very first picture that we were friends in, and I begin to tell the story of how we met.

 

"We were both six. Halloween night. It was your birthday, and we had both started kindergarten that year," I begin quietly, "You never talked to me before, and I never talked to you either. You were an introverted little punk." Frank punches me in the arm but intertwines one of my hands into his, still gazing at the picture. "On that Halloween night, my mother forced me to talk to you as we waited in line for a house, because I had no friends. She felt bad for me, and thought that maybe she could force me into a friendship."

 

"Well, it worked," Frank interrupts tearfully, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie. I smile and kiss the top of his head, and he reaches into the bowl of Skittles. "Anyways," I continue, "I was actually freaked out by you, trying to convince myself that you were mean and that you were like everyone else. But you weren't. You saw that I only had a few pieces of candy, so you gave me some of yours. From there on out, we were basically inseparable."

 

Frank smirks and places his index finger on the back of my hoodie-covered head in the picture. "We had the same jacket. I thought that that was so cool, and then you tried to tie my shoes. I had actually snuck out of the house to do everything by myself, but you and Donna joined me and we just went from house to house. And that's how we met.

 

"Now in _this_ picture," Frank says, shifting his hand to another shot of me and him hugging at school, "That was the first day of us being friends at school. We played so much that day. You doodled on my arms, and we called them tattoos, and we were both sent to timeout, but it was a lot of fun."

 

I laugh as I recall the memory of an ink-covered Frank, explaining to the teacher that I was only practicing my tattoo artist skills, and we both had to pull our behavior cards and sit in timeout. I pretty much remember all of these pictures, and the ones that I can't remember, Frank does. We continue to recount the memories, pointing from picture to picture, giggling and wincing and just sharing emotions. 

 

"That was when we went to go get ice cream after miserably losing the basketball match at school."

 

"And this one is where I broke my arm and you stayed in the hospital with me the whole time."

 

"I couldn't help but add this picture. Remember when we were on that boat for the field trip and you got sick and puked everywhere?"

 

"Oh, fuck yes, I remember that. And then how you came over and spent the night at my house even though your mother said not to, and you got sick?"

 

"That was awful. But you took care of me. Oh, remember this one?"

 

"Oh yeah! That's when Mikey was born, and you and me spent all day biting our fingernails until they bled because we were so scared?"

 

"Yeah. That was a good one. Oh, and then the day we had that class about sex and puberty and came home traumatized? That was terrible!"

 

"Shit, yes. We were so terrified, and we held hands and gazed with disgust as the teacher explained how sex worked."

 

"Funny how it's more like banana to banana than banana to apple. Gay sex is better, anyways."

 

"With you it is, at least. Hey, look at this one of us sleeping together! Aw, look, you're the big spoon!"

 

Our conversation continues in this way as we point from photo to photo, sharing the occasional kiss or shoving food in our mouths. "I remember this one," Frank says sadly, tracing my face in a picture of me looking all beat up, "Those bullies got what they deserved, and those three days of suspension were totally worth it." I giggle and take a bite of ice cream, handing the container back to Frank. 

 

That was my first year of high school, where people finally discovered the fact that I was gay, and Frank had come to stop the bullies. Let's just say that one of them had a broken nose, the other had two broken fingers, and the third suffered from a twisted ankle. "True," I say softly, and Frank eats from the same spoon as I do. We engaged in the whole sharing food thing from age six, never bothering to actually get different silverware or separate straws.

 

We share everything and anything.

 

"Oh, and this one," I say, pointing to our prom picture, "That was fun. We ditched that place after a few minutes, and then got Chinese take out and played video games all night. That was a lot of fun." We aren't even wearing tuxedos in the photo, because we weren't planning on staying the whole night, anyways. Frank laughs, shaking the bed slightly as he does so. 

 

He nods and leans his head against my arm, resting his chin on my shoulder. "You're the best boyfriend ever, you know that, right?" he asks quietly, and I turn my head to kiss his nose. "Yeah, I know. Happy birthday, King of Halloween," I whisper back, and he giggles. 

 

"Whatever. Thank you for everything. For the memories, for the... God, it's been twelve years. Thank you for the six years of friendship and the six years of being my boyfriend. I've loved every moment," he says lovingly, and I pull up his chin to meet my gaze. "I love you so much," I whisper, kissing his forehead slowly.

 

We continue to look at photos until we reach the end, and I can't help but thank Halloween for all of this. I used to hate the holiday, as it's terrifying and there are simply too many people on the streets that can kidnap you and rape you. But if it weren't for this holiday, I wouldn't have become Frank's friend. We've gone to the same schools our whole lives, not including the one year when Frank had to go to a Catholic school. All of my memories are with him. And this makes me realize one thing:

 

Halloween is my favorite holiday.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This shouldn't even be allowed to count as a one-shot anymore. Someone requested this part, and I thought that it'd be really cute! However, I ran out of ideas, so this is really shitty and poorly written.
> 
> xoromanticizingchemicals

"Miles! Bandit! Come on, guys, we have to get going before it gets too loud!" I hear Frank shout from the living room, his frantic footsteps approaching our bedroom. He peeps his head in to see me over my desk, painting a comic scene. My strokes are slow and deliberate, and I hold my tongue between my teeth as I paint. "Gee, baby, come on. Aren't you coming?" Frank asks softly, and I nod as I finish the face.

 

I push back from my desk and set the brush in the cup of water beside my paper, and stand up. Frank hugs me from behind, and I hold onto his hands, which are resting on my shoulders. "You're such an amazing person," he whispers, and I smile and turn around. "Not as amazing as you," I reply, hugging him and pulling him to my chest.

 

At the door, Bandit's head appears in the crack, followed by Miles's. "Daddy, come on. You told us we need to go, so let's go!" Miles cries, bursting through the door and joining the hug, his small arms wrapped around our legs. Frank lets go of me and picks up Miles, tossing him into the air a few times. For being so small, Frank is actually pretty strong. 

 

Bandit it rolls her eyes and adjusts her sunglasses and bandana, which is resting around her neck. "Hurry up, guys. I'm not going to wait forever!" she reprimands, pulling the bandana to her mouth. After watching the Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na) video, Bandit had wanted nothing more than to dress up as me, and with a little hesitation, I had accepted that.

 

I don't want to seem like I'm pressing my career on her, or Miles, as a matter of fact. So I was a little skeptical at first. But her eyes were so wide and so hopeful, so I let her dye her head red and use the costume pieces from the video. 

 

Miles, on the other hand, wanted to be a ghost. So that's why he's dressed in some white sheets that I've spent weeks trimming and stitching up so that it'd stay on him. "Look, Daddy! I'm like the ghost of you!" he had told Frank, to which Frank had sighed and hugged him, some sadness flooding his eyes. The days of My Chemical Romance are over, and Frank always gets emotional at the mention of it. But so do I, though he's just more prone to crying over it.

 

"Dad!" Bandit whines, stomping over to me and pulling at my pants, "Hurry up!" I giggle and scoop her up, and she squeals, smacking me in the face and demanding me to put her down. I rub the sore spot and set Bandit gently on the bed, and she slips off and bounds out the door. Miles pushes Frank and follows Bandit, and we eventually follow them as well.

 

I take a deep breath as I slip on a warm, hooded jacket and hand Miles his candy basket. "Remember, don't eat any until we come home," Frank reminds the two, handing Bandit her candy bucket. The children exchange a mischievous grin and nod quickly, rushing to the door and jiggling the knob. Frank sighs and kisses my cheek, unlocking the door.

 

Bandit and Miles are off like racers, running as quickly as they can to the sidewalk, where they scream in unison, "Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat!" Frank grimaces and slips his hand into mine, and we follow Bandit and Miles down the sidewalk to our neighbor's house. We've lived here long enough to tell who would let us come and get candy and who won't. There are some very strict Christians that live across the road, and they don't approve of me and Frank in the least.

 

However, we're married, so there's nothing that they can do about it.

 

This is the first year where Bandit and Miles actually want to go out and trick-or-treat, which I find adorable. After celebrating Frankie's birthday by visiting Grandma's house, the two had set about getting ready for Halloween. Frank had made the casserole that we eat every year in celebration of Halloween, along with the cake and the special hot chocolate. After racing through the meal, the children had added the finishing touches to their costumes. 

 

"You okay?" Frank voice comes, and I nod. I got lost in my thoughts, I guess. "Yep! I'm just so happy to spend yet another Halloween with you, and with the kids," I reply cheerily, and we follow Miles and Bandit up the driveway of a house. 

 

The two knock on the door, and once it opens, they shout, "Trick-or-treat!" I'm immediately reminded of Frank and I at age six, when we met and we vowed to be the best of friends. Miles and Bandit are actually both six, Frank and I thirty eight. So this is exactly how I remember Halloween being as a child. "Oh, aren't you two adorable? What are you, child?" the plump woman with a bucket of candy asks, leaning down and glancing at Bandit.

 

Bandit smiles that adorable little smile of hers and shouts, "I'm Party Poison, with the sunglasses!" Originally, I had offered her the mask, but she said that the glasses made her look more "futuritic". She forgot the "s" in "futuristic", so I couldn't help but smile and comply. The woman smiles and nods, obviously having no idea who Party Poison is, and grabs a handful of candy. She dumps it into Bandit's bucket, and then gives some to Miles as well. 

 

"Have a good night," Frank and I chime in unison, and the woman grins as she closes her door. We continue to go from house to house, avoiding any place with too many children or that may look threatening in any way. 

 

Bandit stops suddenly, but Miles races ahead, so Frank chases after him as I hang back with Bandit. "Hey, sweetie, what's wrong?" I ask softly, kneeling down to become level with her. She bites her bottom lip, which is trembling. "I'm okay, but..." she starts, shrugging, "There are people at my school that have a mommy and daddy, and I have two daddies. And I love you both so, so much, but the kids... They say mean things. They say that you two are gay, and I don't know what that means. And it makes me sad, because no one ever wants to play. And I have no friends."

 

How this became a topic of conversation, I have no idea. Normally, Bandit is extremely cheerful and has no problems with school. Not that she talks about, anyways. But at the mention of this, I become greatly saddened. This is exactly what I had talked to Frank about at the adoption center.

 

_"It'll be good. We need other people in the house, and it'll prove something to everyone," Frank insists lovingly, grabbing my elbow. I sigh and refuse to meet his gaze. "They're going to get bullied, Frank," I reply, my voice trembling slightly, "We're not normal. It's not cool to have two dads. They won't have any friends, and it'll be all our faults." Frank just shakes his head and pulls me along. "They'll be fine," he reassures, kissing my cheek, "I promise."_

 

But obviously they're not. Well, at least not Bandit. "Oh, honey," I begin, pulling her in for a hug. She shivers from the cold autumn air, snuggling up. "Don't listen to them. They're just jealous," I assure her, but she shakes her head. "No, they're not. You're just saying that to make me feel better. I love you and Daddy, but I'm so sad of not having friends!"

 

I bite my tongue and open my mouth, not really sure of what to say. "People don't matter," I decide, "There are some mean people out there, and you just have to ignore them. And they're just jealous that they don't have my cool hair or my cool sweaters." I say this and boop Bandit's nose with my finger, and she giggles. "Okay, I trust you," she says, and I kiss her forehead.

 

"Gee, Bandit! Come on, guys!" Frank calls, outside of my mother's house. I smile and pick up Bandit, and we walk towards the house. 

 

Halloween is definitely going to be a hassle from here on out, with weeks of costume planning and shit in advance, but the kids and Frank make it so much better. My family makes it the best.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you guys like it? Leave suggestions and challenges, PLEASE, because I'm running out of ideas here... Love you all super muches!
> 
> xoromanticizingchemicals


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